“He deserved it. Did it put you off me? Seeing me like that?”

No more lies.

“No. It turned me on.”

He seems taken aback by that.

“Does that disturb you?”

He smiles. “No. It’s not what I was expecting, but it doesn’t disturb me.”

I watch him carefully. “You have bad dreams. Nightmares. You talk about wind speed, and distances, and sometimes you shout out.”

He flinches. “I say shit you can understand? Clear words? In my sleep?”

“Yeah. Haven’t other girlfriends told you the same?”

His gaze softens. “Carolina, I haven’t slept with anyone the way I do with you, as in all night long, for a very long time.”

For some reason, even though the jealous devil inside of me likes to hear that, his words hurt my heart. “Why not?”

He shrugs. “I haven’t been in the head space to want that. To want anything intimate really.”

“But you do with me.”

It’s not a question because he’s as intimate with me as two people can get. We don’t only screw like rabbits, although we do that too. But we’ve talked into the wee small hours. We’ve taken baths together and gone for walks with Brutus. We’ve watched one of his favorite movies and one of mine, and we both hated the other’s choice. It’s been an intense few days, and I feel as if in some ways I know him better than friends I’ve had in my life for decades.

“I do,” he says. “I’d like to think we can carry this on.”

There it is. The words I’ve longed for but also dreaded.

He smiles at me and takes hold of my hand. “Carolina, I’m falling in love with you. I know it sounds fucking insane because it’s been such a short time, but it’s the truth.”

“I am with you,” I reply.

“It looks like things might be starting to get sorted for you here. If we can deal with Lexy, and the threats against your father turn out to be fabricated, then you won’t need a bodyguard. But I hope you’ll still want me around.”

This man. This big, inked, powerful man who is every single stereotype of a bad boy, and savage as fuck when he needs to be, is putting it all on the line for me. The vulnerability in his gaze makes my chest hurt because he’s opening himself up for rejection, and I’m about to deliver it.

“Samuel.”

“Call me Sam.” He squeezes my hand. “Few people do, but those closest to me do, so it seems right coming from you.”

Christ, talk about hammering each emotional nail in.

“Sam…I want what you’re talking about. I do. No one has made me feel the way you do in this short time we’ve had together.”